


Soul Mate

by Bobo_is_tha_Bomb



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Drama, F/M, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24213100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bobo_is_tha_Bomb/pseuds/Bobo_is_tha_Bomb
Summary: “I can’t go on like this.” Your voice broke over the last word. “You’re hurting me and don’t even seem to care about it.”“That’s…” He sighed and turned his gaze to the glass in his hand, absentmindedly watching the amber colored liquid swirl around in it. “That’s not true.”ZechsxReader
Relationships: Zechs Merquise/Reader
Kudos: 4





	Soul Mate

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to post this last week to celebrate my one year of posting on AO3, but I got into this stump that I couldn’t seem to get out of. I gave myself a firm kick in the butt and finally finished this little story!
> 
> This is actually a rewrite of my first ever English language story for Gundam Wing. Back then it was part of the Gundam Wing one-shot collection up on ff.net and Freedom of Speech fanfiction. The title doesn’t make much sense anymore now, but oh, well... LOL.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing, its characters, or you.

**Soul Mate**

You stared out of the window, sighing deeply to yourself as you heard your boyfriend lift the bottle again to pour himself another shot of bourbon. He was steadily drinking himself into a stupor. Again. And for what?

“You’re not helping yourself right now, Zechs,” you said sadly.

You had to fight back tears when he scoffed. “Shut up.” 

“I’m not some soldier you can command.” You turned around to look at him, and could only feel pity as you watched him throw back the contents of his glass. 

He had lost weight, and had not been taking proper care of himself the past few months. His normally shiny mane of platinum blond hair was tangled and unkept. A few days worth of stubble covered his jaw, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. 

This was such a far cry from the man you had met and fallen in love with.

“I…” You had to swallow thickly and try again. The words were risky, and you knew you could lose everything if this turned out the wrong way. But you had to try _something_ to get through to him. “I’m tired of this.” 

His blue eyes, normally bright and beautiful but now bloodshot and tired, narrowed into a glare. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“This whole situation,” you said while gesturing aimlessly with your hands. “I’ve had enough of it. We’re fighting constantly and you’re terrible company when you’re drunk.” 

He didn’t seem to care much for your words, as he grabbed the bottle again. “You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Wouldn’t I?” Your tone sharpened with anger. It was his favorite argument to use against you whenever you tried to make a point. _You wouldn’t understand because you hadn’t fought in the war. You wouldn’t understand because you hadn’t seen your family and all that you held dear being ripped away from you._

“No,” he said gruffly. 

“You go to a reunion, and come back as if your world has turned on its axis. You won’t talk to me, you shut me out constantly, and refuse to let me get close to you.” You heaved a frustrated breath. “You always talked to me in the past. What changed?” 

Zechs propped his chin onto his hand and glared stubbornly at the wall, purposefully averting his face so you couldn’t see his expression. But the way his shoulders hunched, told you enough. The pain radiated off of him in waves. 

“I can’t go on like this.” Your voice broke over the last word. “You’re hurting me and don’t even seem to care about it.” 

“That’s…” He sighed and turned his gaze to the glass in his hand, absentmindedly watching the amber colored liquid swirl around in it. “That’s not true.” 

He sounded lost, broken. He put the glass down on the table and shoved it away from him, as if it didn’t appeal to him anymore. He leaned back in his seat and rubbed his hands over his face, and you once against realized how tired he looked. 

“You need help, Zechs,” you tried. “But I’m not sure if I’m the right person to give it to you.”

He sighed. “It’s not that easy.” 

“No,” you agreed, while approaching him and taking the bottle and the glass from the table. “You’ll have to want it.” 

He gave you a glum look. 

“First step,” you said while holding up the bottle. “This goes.” 

He didn’t even protest as you walked into the kitchen and poured the remaining bourbon down the drain. Maybe in the morning he would complain, because it was a disgustingly expensive premium brand. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. The bourbon was gone and he wouldn’t be consuming any more of it tonight.

You retrieved a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, before venturing back into the living room. Zechs eyed the glass disdainfully as you put it down in front of him.

“I don’t need you to baby me,” he said.

“I’m not babying you.” You could barely keep yourself from snapping. “I’m making sure your head is clear enough tomorrow morning for us to hold a serious conversation.” 

The look in his eyes was defiant as he grabbed the glass and drowned it. He slammed it back onto the table. “Satisfied now?” 

“Yes.” You pointed towards the couch. “Now go sleep this off.” 

He got up, and even in his inebriated state he was steady on his feet as he stalked over to the couch. You watched him as he sprawled out, and allowed your expression to soften somewhat. At least he was listening, wasn’t he?

You turned around and prepared to leave the room, only to stop short when you heard him speak.

“I love you.” 

You had to take a deep shuddering breath, and continued on your way. In the bedroom you grabbed a spare blanked from the closet and took his pillow from the bed, all the while trying very hard to control your emotions. You would not cry until you were in bed, you vowed. He wouldn’t get to see the tears. 

When you walked back into the living room, Zechs’ was already fast asleep, his chest rising and falling with his deep and regular breathing. You quietly made your way over to him and covered him with the blanket. You carefully sneaked your hand underneath his head so you could lift it and stuff his pillow under it. 

You watched him sleep for a moment, once again taking in his haggard looking features. Even in sleep, his expression was troubled. 

With a sigh you smoothed his bangs away from his face and leaned in to brush a kiss over his forehead. “I love you too, you idiot,” you murmured. “Tell me again when you’re sober.” 

You turned off the lights and retreated to the bedroom. Engulfed in darkness, you allowed the tears to fall. You prayed, desperately prayed, that this would be the last time, that Zechs would finally open up to you and tell you what was bothering him. 

It took you a long time to fall asleep.

-x-x-x-

When you woke up the next morning, you found yourself enveloped in strong arms, a warm, hard chest pressing against your back. Your eyes widened in shock when you realized that Zechs must have sneaked into the room during the night. He was still fast asleep, his breath caressing over your hair. He was holding you to him tightly, as if he was afraid that you would disappear any moment. As if he realized that he needed you more than he needed the alcohol to forget about his problems.

When you turned around he stirred and tightened his grip on you. 

“Zechs,” you said softly. “Wake up.” 

He rose from sleep, rolling onto his back and letting go of you in the process, stretching languidly beneath the sheets. A groan escaped him when the light assaulted his vision, and he raised a hand to press against his head. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked him. 

“The couch is terrible to sleep on,” he grumbled, while blinking rapidly. 

The hangover must be bad, you thought. And that was his own, stupid fault. But you still got up to get him some aspirin from the bathroom. He gave you a grateful look when you sat down on the edge of the bed and offered him the pills and a glass of water.

“Thanks,” he said and was quick to swallow the pills down with the water.

“We’ll need to talk.” 

“I know.” He didn’t look happy at the prospect.

“I want to know all of it.” You reached out to touch his cheek. “I won’t be able to understand if I don’t know.” 

He sighed deeply and nodded. 

“Do you want some breakfast?” 

He shook his head. “Not yet.” 

He looked lost still, and your heart broke for him once again. You reached out and slipped your arms around him, drawing him into your embrace. His chin came to rest on your shoulder and you heard him sigh once more. The next moment he was clutching you close to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“I’m not going to say it’s okay,” you told him. It would mean that it had been alright for him to step onto your feelings in the way he had. 

“I should have talked to you.” He was tugging you closer still, until he cradled you in his lap and he was comforting you, instead of it being the other way around. “Heero… he’s suffering from severe PTSD.” 

“That’s… That’s really terrible,” you said softly.

“I can’t help but wonder how much of it is my doing.” His tone was so remorseful it made goosebumps rise on your skin.

All these weeks he’d been drowning in his own guilt. And instead of talking to you, he had tried to find comfort in something else. 

You pulled back to look at him. “Do you think Heero would appreciate it if he found out how you have been acting the past few weeks?” 

He scoffed. “Of course not.”

“It’s the coward’s way, Zechs.” 

“Don’t think I’m proud of my actions.” 

“That’s good, because you’re not helping Heero by drinking yourself into a stupor every night. How much more terrible would he feel if he found out?” 

Zechs leaned his head back against the wall, eyes falling shut as he processed your words. “You’re right.” 

“You found out at the reunion?” 

He nodded. “Relena said he is undergoing treatment.” 

“So he is getting the help he needs.” You bit your lip and contemplated how to formulate your next words in a way that wouldn’t set him off. “Maybe… maybe you need to consider it too.” 

He opened his eyes and looked at you, his blue eyes calm and collected. “Do you think I need help?” 

“Yes,” you said honestly. “Your way of coping is cause for concern. What will happen once the next set back comes along?” 

He was silent for a long time, looking deep in thought. When he spoke again, his words gave you a rush of relief. “You’re right.” 

You allowed a small smile to form. “Asking for help won’t make you less of a person, you know. I think it’s brave.” 

His fingers curled around yours and you allowed him to raise your entwined hands to his face so he could kiss your fingers. “I should have told you.” 

“Yes,” you agreed. 

“How close to losing you am I?” 

The question made you freeze and you could only stare at him. “Zechs…”

“Last night… You said you were fed up with me.” 

You scrambled for words, not knowing what to say. 

“I…” you finally started. “I was losing you and I didn’t know anymore what to do or say to get through to you.” 

You sidled closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder. The need to be close to him, to offer comfort as well as receive it was too strong to resist. 

“I love you,” you said softly. “And I don’t want to lose you.” 

He buried his face in your hair and held you tightly. “I love you.” 

The words had you clutching at him and before you knew it, you were tugging him down for a kiss, needing another way to express yourself. He was gentle, savoring rather than ravishing, and it made a warm feeling bloom in your belly. 

“For you,” he said when he pulled back, “I would do anything.” 

You smiled and cupped his cheek. “Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

You rested your forehead against his and sighed. “I’m glad.” 

He nuzzled your hair and sighed contently. You stayed in his arms for a while, enjoying the warmth of his body and the feeling of his heartbeat beneath your fingers when you pressed your hand against his chest. 

“I should go and take a shower,” he murmured finally.

“Hmm…” You slid out of his arms and gave him a small smile. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” 

-x-x-x-

You were in the midst of preparing breakfast when the doorbell rang. A little frown appeared between your eyebrows, because it was still rather early for visitors. You padded through the apartment and unlocked and opened the front door. 

“Please tell me he is out on the street!” Your best friend came barging in, looking fabulous as Hell in a maxi dress with an elaborate floral pattern and a pair of wedged sandals that made you sigh with envy. 

“Margot,” you said, while closing the door behind her. 

“Darling.” She turned around and took in the pajamas you were wearing and the messy bun you had pulled your hair up into. “Ouch. Was it bad?” 

You rolled your eyes. “He’s in the shower.” 

Her bright red lips formed a perfect little ‘O’. “No. No!” 

“I think I finally got through to him,” you said, and couldn’t keep the hopeful tone out of your voice. 

Margot fluffed her expertly styled hair, and once again made you wonder at what ungodly hour she got up every morning for it to look that way, and set course for the kitchen. “I’m not having this!” 

You sighed and followed her, making your way over to the coffee machine. Margot had never liked Zechs, and he hated her guts in return, so when you had confided in her about the problems you were facing for the umpteenth time, she had told you to make up your mind. She had clearly expected you to throw Zechs out. 

You fixed her a cup of coffee and leaned back against the counter. “He’s hurting.” 

“And he hurt you for months on end.” 

“Yes, but…” you sighed and pushed a lock that had escaped the bun behind your ear. “It’s complicated.”

Margot pinned you in place with her steely blue eyes. “Is it worth it?” 

You pursed your lips and thought for a while. “Yes,” you said finally. “Yes, it’s worth it.” 

She dropped her chin on her hand and sighed. “Oh well…” 

At that moment Zechs came walking into the kitchen. He had shaved and looked more like himself than he had done the past few weeks. When he saw Margot sitting at the table, he threw a disdainful look in her direction. “Margot.” 

“Zechs,” she returned just as icily. 

Zechs came to stand next to you as he fixed himself coffee and leaned in to kiss your cheek. Margot pulled a face behind his back and slammed back the remains of her coffee.

“Well, I’ll be going then.” She promptly got up and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you no time to go after her.

You heard the front door slam shut. 

Zechs chuckled. “She can’t wait to get out of my sight.” 

“She’s angry with you,” you told him. 

“Isn’t she always?” he muttered under his breath.

“She thinks I should break up with you.” 

He froze and his head whipped around, his gaze meeting yours. You could read the uncertainty and the silent question in his eyes. _Did you think the same thing?_

“Truth to be told, I came very close to thinking it myself,” you confessed. “But it’s not what I want.” 

His breath left his lungs in a rush and he reached out to grasp your hand. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’ll have to prove it.” You let go of his hand and crossed your arms in front of you. “I want you to call the doctor so you can get a referral to see a psychologist.” 

He took his coffee to the table and sat down. The square set of his shoulders told you he wasn’t very happy with your demand. But he had promised you, so you knew he would do it. You walked over to him and leaned over his chair, sliding your arms around his neck. 

“I know you hate the thought of it,” you said softly and pressed your lip against his cheek, enjoying the smoothness of his skin after his shave. “But we can’t go on like this.” 

“No,” he agreed, reluctantly. “We can’t.” 

He leaned back in his seat and turned his head so he could bury his face in your neck. 

“I’ll do it,” he said.

The relief was nearly tangible and had you tightening your grip on him. “Good. I meant what I said to Margot. It’s worth it.” 

You felt him smile against your skin, the first smile in weeks. “And I meant what I said last night. For you I would do anything.” 

“Good to know.” You pulled back to look at him and gave him a warm and honest smile. 

He caught your mouth in a tender kiss, and you were drowning before you knew it, moving around the chair to slide into his lap. His hands made quick work of your hair, pulling the band away so it came tumbling down. You sighed when he buried both hands in it and used his hold to angle your head so he could deepen the kiss. 

It had been a long time since you had felt like this, safe and loved, desired. And it was good to realize he could still make you feel this way, to realize you still craved him. Neither of you paid attention to the toaster or the eggs you had boiling on the stove. 

It was quite some time later when Zechs dryly announced he’d be making a trip to the baker’s to pick up breakfast.

Your stomach rumbled loudly in answer. “I’m starving.” 

He chuckled and nuzzled your shoulder, the caress of his breath over your naked and damp skin making you shiver. 

“After breakfast I will set up the appointment with the doctor,” he promised you. 

“Good.” You slid out of his lap and fished his shirt from the floor. You pulled it on and tried to smooth your hopelessly tangled hair. 

You turned off the stove and put the pan with the over boiled eggs in the sink. A smile came to play over your face when he slid his arms around your waist and simply held you. 

You knew a rocky road lay ahead of your still. It would be a struggle, but you had each other and it was enough. It would have to be enough. And you would support him every step of the way. 

“Hey Zechs?” 

“Hmm?” 

You turned around in his embrace and rested your forehead against his. “I’m here, okay?” 

His eyes were warm as they gazed deeply into yours. “I know.”

You smiled and met his mouth in a tender kiss. His hand came up to caress over your cheek and your eyes drifted shut at the gentle touch. 

“I’ll get through this,” he said. “For you.” 

You nodded and leaned in to bury your face in his chest. His skin was warm against your cheek and his heartbeat a steady drum in your ear. 

He kissed the top of your head. “What else in the world is left for me if I don’t?” 

You slipped your arms around his waist and held on for dear life, offering him the comfort he obviously needed. “I’m here… Always.” 

His arms tightened around you. “Thank you.” 

**\- End -**


End file.
